


Redemption

by keirajo



Series: TF:MTMTE/LL-A.U. (divergence from canon) [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Death, Devotion, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: It's Star Saber vs. Rodimus Unicronus!!!   And Megatron goes in search of ways to try and win his sparkmate back from Unicron.  We're midway through the 4-part-series and there's a lot of action here in this part, buckle up all!





	Redemption

**_ Redemption _ **

 

 

 

            “Are you………….. _meditating_?”   Drift asked, a bit of awe in his rich voice.   He had gone to give some reports to Megatron in the planning room at the citadel and found the former Decepticon Leader sitting crosslegged on the floor in the center of the room.

            “Trying to, at any rate……..”  Megatron grunted, slowly standing up and stretching his aching limbs.   “I may be _too old_ for such physical contortions to my body anymore………….” he sighed, walking over to the table and pulling out a chair.

            The old warrior couldn’t help but stare in shock at a person he’d once called his commanding officer, but then he laughed.   This earned him an Ultra Magnus-worthy frown of epic proportions from Megatron.

            “ _Seriously_?   **_You_** ……….the one who can manage to exhaust Rodimus’ nearly endless energy?”  Drift retorted.   Then he got serious and sighed as he sat down across from Megatron at the planning table.  “We will get him back, do not despair.”

            Megatron gave a small groan and rested his head on a hand that he’d propped up on the table—a gesture he’d watched Rodimus do _way too often_.   He missed his energetic young sparkmate more than he could ever express.   “It’s been two weeks, Drift………….and Unicron has not made a single move yet,” the old miner and gladiator murmured.

            “He’s waiting for us to relax our guard, as any military commander would do,” Drift responded, handing over the datapad he had.   “Come now, aren’t you the one who’s ten steps ahead of everyone else?”  The former Decepticon teased, grinning at Megatron.

            “ _Tch_ ,” Megatron muttered, annoyed.

            He had not seen Deadlock in his Autobot form until the old warrior arrived with Ratchet here on the Necrobot’s world.   It was the first time he’d seen Deadlock as an Autobot known as “Drift”.   He’d changed greatly, at least on the exterior………….frame rebuild, face paint and body markings, denoting his devotion to his Spectralist choice of religion.    And when Megatron saw Drift with Rodimus……..the happiness and good cheer between the two made him both surprised and perhaps a little bit jealous.   But then, when Drift had threatened him into taking care of Rodimus better—Megatron saw that there was still a bit of Deadlock within him, the violent warrior with no peer.   Megatron saw Rodimus’ shyness and then open acceptance of Drift again, this time as _Amica Endura_ —but an _Amica_ bond unlike any other……………..it was a love beyond measure—despite Rodimus always being flippant and saying he had no idea about their relationship.

            “Alright, so Unicron  wants to destroy Primus’ progeny…………what do you think he would do?   _How_ would he go about it?”  Drift proposed, smiling over at Megatron.

            Megatron folded his hands in front of him and dipped his head, shuttering his optics to think.  “Perhaps—well, I believe **_I_** would consider attacking the colonies first.  They are smaller targets, with fewer numbers to stand against any forces,” Megatron answered, running through a dozen scenarios in his head involving the colonies.   “The God of Chaos is not exactly predictable, by nature, but in legends he is said to embrace irony.   If _that_ is the case, then I would send Rodimus to attack Velocitron—send a former racer to destroy a colony that worships racing,” he continued, his deep voice soft and even.

            “Ah, _there_ we go!”  Drift chuckled, warmly.   He reached up and tapped his audial lightly to activate his personal comm-link.  “Star Saber, would you report to the planning room?   I believe we’ve found a mission for you,” Drift said, firmly.   Then he nodded as the old religious warrior said he’d be there momentarily.

            After the _Lost Light_ had returned to Censerre’s world, the ship had been locked down in recharge mode.  Every single person, except for the ones Nautica herself handpicked, were not allowed to set foot on the ship or go anywhere near it, or their punishment would be immediate expulsion back to Cybertron—no staff evaluation, no interview, **_no nothing_** ……just _directly_ back to Cybertron.  The crew hearings and evaluations would take place once they had gotten Rodimus back and/or Unicron had been dealt with.   If any of the former crew wished to have any desire to continue on the ship’s adventures, they would have to stay out of trouble.

            All of that having been said, Star Saber, who had been captured by Cyclonus when they retook the ship—he overheard the discussion and the moment he heard Unicron’s name mentioned, he asked Megatron to fight alongside of them.   After all, someone as religiously devoted to Primus as he was—he simply could not allow Primus’ ancient enemy to flourish in this universe.    But as soon as the matter of Unicron had been dealt with, he had asked to be given his freedom once more to pursue evil in the universe and continue doing Primus’ will, as _he_ saw fit.

            There was one _small_ problem though.   Cyclonus had damaged Star Saber’s legs, Megatron hadn’t noticed because he’d dragged the old religious warrior to the Captain’s chair and kept him seated there.   It was at that point that they had learned Star Saber was something akin to a “loadbearer”, like Ultra Magnus.   He had layers of armour around his original frame………..so his entire body was his original frame and two additional sets of armour.   He had yet to show his “original frame” to anyone, as of now—while Velocity and other medics worked on fixing the legs of his Victory Armour—he was wearing what he called his “general frame”.   This frame was a standard average Cybertronian size, like Rodimus or Drift…………the chest  and head portions had a deep blue coloring, the legs were fiery red and there were lines of white throughout the frame.   But Star Saber insisted he was not technically a loadbearer like Ultra Magnus—his armour was designed for a purpose, to aid him in serving Primus.   That was why he needed his “general frame”, because his “original frame” had not the strength to manipulate the Victory Armour…………his “general frame” gave him the boost of strength needed to use his Victory Armour.

            “Good morning, gentlemen,” Star Saber chuckled as he entered the room.   He was still wearing his general frame today.  “Velocity says the damage done to the Victory Armour should be fixed by the end of the day,” he announced happily.   He seemed to be in a good mood today, given that he’d been fairly cranky and overly religiously preachy the past two weeks.

            “I’m sorry that it happened, but you did rather piss a few people off, as I understand,” Drift said with a warm chuckle, as he motioned to an empty seat at the table.  “Megatron?”  He added, looking over at the former warlord.

            “Mmmmm.  While Unicron has not made a move yet, we had been speaking about what we might do in his situation—having two warriors now, with which to attack Primus’ children with,” Megatron began, softly.  “I believe he _might_ choose to strike at the colonies first.   And, perhaps, send Rodimus to Velocitron—a racer to crush the capital of racing,” the former warlord explained in a soft voice.

            “One cannot overlook irony—it is one of the many signs gods use to teach us mortals lessons,” Star Saber responded with a gentle shrug.   “So, I take it you’d like me to go there………..lounge around………..and wait up for your little boy-toy?”  He inquired, seeing how far he can push his teasing of the former Decepticon Leader.

            A very dark look crossed Megatron’s faceplate and Star Saber murmured a soft apology for going too far.

            “Just try your best to protect Velocitron and contact us the very moment Rodimus shows up,” Megatron added, trying to bring his emotions back under control.

            “Of course.   It could be fun to watch the silly colonists race their little Sparks out,” Star Saber chuckled.  “Later, gentlemen!”  He laughed, heading out of the room to go get prepared for his mission.

            “I think I may lose it, Drift…………..my tether to care about anything at all is gone…………” Megatron sighed, folding his arms on the table and burying his head in them.

            It was a strange sight, Drift had _never_ seen a Megatron that looked like this before.   He gave a soft little chuckle and reached over to pat Megatron’s head—something he’d never _ever_ do under any kind of normal circumstances.  Clearly the former warlord’s vulnerability was being parted from Rodimus.

            “ _Don’t_ patronize me,” Megatron mumbled, not looking up at all.

            “I’m _not_ doing _that_ ,” Drift said, still gently patting Megatron’s head.   “I admit, I’ve always wondered what Rodimus saw in you.   But I think I know, now.”

            The former Decepticon Leader raised his head with a surprised jerk.   “What do you mean?”  He asked, annoyed with everyone right now.

            “Look at how worried you are for him,” Drift said, a warm smile on his faceplate.  “Yes, **_you_** Megatron,” he chuckled, propping one arm on the table, upright with the elbow braced on the flat surface.   Then he rested the side of his helm against the palm of that hand.  “He’s the _center_ of your universe………..and I know that Rodimus has always wanted a partner who cherished him above everything else.”   Then Drift sighed, softly and a little bit sadly.   “ ** _I_** should have treated Rodimus better than I did……..we wound up arguing too easily over very small things.   But I can tell you that when the moments were right, we were _oh-so-good_ together,” the former Decepticon warrior chuckled softly.   “One day, _you’ll_ have to tell me the story of how you got together.  I asked Rodimus for more than what he wrote in his letter, but he just gets seriously embarrassed, begins spluttering unintelligibly and usually runs off as fast as he can.”

            Megatron smiled, _that_ sounded exactly like Rodimus.  “Drift………did Rodimus ever tell you about Blaze of Nyon?”  He asked, curious to know what Rodimus may have mentioned about his very first love and sparkmate, back in a time when Rodimus would’ve still remembered Blaze.

            Drift tilted his head curiously.  “I’ve never heard him mention the name, but Rodimus never really liked talking about his past.   _Everything_ about Nyon was too painful for him,” the swordsmech responded, softly.

            _That_ sounded like Rodimus, too.   “I wonder.  Do you suppose his life would have been different if he had been recognized as a lifebearer?”  Megatron asked, wondering what Drift’s opinion would be.

            “Likely no different than now………clearly even Optimus Prime had no clue what a lifebearer was,” Drift sighed.  “If I had known…………I think **_I_** would’ve done something differently.   **_But._**    What’s done is done, I’m afraid.”   Drift gazed down at the table and rubbed a random spot with his free hand.  “A tainted lifebearer longs for the opposite of life………….and Unicron tapped into that.  His anger towards Getaway was merely a trigger, but his longing to die was what Unicron was able to truly use.”

            Drift saw despair cross Megatron’s faceplate as the former warlord buried his head in his arms again.

            “We’ll save him, you must have faith,” Drift said, quietly.

            “My faith is fading fast,” Megatron whispered.    So many things left unsaid to Rodimus……..

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            In a way, it was almost as if Unicron had been _waiting_ for Megatron to make his prediction of what the Chaos God might do.   Only a single day after Star Saber had arrived on Velocitron, a two-pronged attack took place…………Galvatron had been sent to Devisen and the newly minted Rodimus Unicronus had been sent to Velocitron.   To combat both fronts…………Star Saber was already engaging the corrupted Rodimus on Velocitron, while Optimus Prime used the spacebridge to take a force to Devisen.   Megatron got about twenty volunteers and took the military chaser they’d received from Cybertron to Veloctitron, hoping that Star Saber could keep Rodimus busy until they got there.   The small combat craft had been named the _Crimson Light_ by Drift and he’d painted some Spectralist glyphs on it—because he’d needed something to do to keep his mind off of Rodimus’ fall.  

            Nautica had upgraded some of the _Crimson Light’s_ engines with quantum technology, so it could get to locations much faster than before.   Megatron was glad that Starscream was allowing them to keep it, because it was much better to use in circumstances where speed was required, but not having to break out an entire crew to use the much larger _Lost Light_ for.   It was likely a concession on part of the council, because of what happened to Rodimus.

            Megatron was not without a plan, though.   He’d been in talks for the past two weeks with Fortress Maximus about what they could do.   Max said he’d be willing to try something he’d tried once before and hopefully this time he’d have a little more success.    As soon as the fighting began on the two colony worlds, Megatron had immediately called Fortress Maximus and said it was time to try and put their plan into action.   The former Decepticon Leader left Drift and Roller behind, from the main command crew……..to ensure the former crew of the _Lost Light_ did not cause too much trouble on Censerre’s world.   He _did_ take Ultra Magnus with him, in the hopes that maybe Magnus could stand up to whatever Rodimus had become.   Megatron wished he might have had a Combiner team with him, but if Fortress Maximus could pull off what he planned to do—it could all work out in the end.

            “It is not my intention to put you on the spot, but………..are you going to fight this time?” Ultra Magnus asked, curiously, as he sat down across from Megatron—taking the co-pilot’s seat.

            “I apologize, but I cannot fight,” Megatron responded with a sigh.   “It’s possible I might kill someone, if I do…………..” he trailed off, focusing on the piloting.

            “You’re weaponless, Megatron.  I don’t believe you could kill anyone,” Ultra Magnus chided, shaking his head lightly.

            “Ah, but I killed my Decepticon Justice Division without weapons, did I not?”  The former warlord sighed, looking over the instrument panel and pressing the button that would give the ship a quantum jump.  It would take three jumps to reach Velocitron from where they were.

            “That I will not dispute, but you were cornered and unleashed dark matter,” the second-in-command of the Lost Light chided, gently.  “I believe if you merely relied on hand-to-hand combat, you would be just fine to fight.”   Then Ultra Magnus paused and incycled a deep breath.  “You and I may be the only ones who are able to stand up to his new strength, we’ve reports that Star Saber is already struggling with his Victory Armour.”

            “If he believes in Primus, as he claims to—he will hang in there and not let an Avatar of the God of Chaos beat him,” Megatron muttered, his voice dark and angry.

            “What if he kills Rodimus before we can save him?”  Ultra Magnus said, a snap in his voice.

            “I highly doubt he could,” Megatron mumbled.

            Then they made the second jump and Ultra Magnus kept getting field reports from people on Velocitron about the battle.   Star Saber was fighting hard, but the Avatar of Terror was a harsh combatant.   Star Saber was not exactly losing, but he wasn’t winning either—he was simply losing ground.   And after the third jump, Megatron announced to the crew on the _Crimson Light_ that they would hit landfall of Velocitron in a few moments.

            “Go on ahead, I’ll join you after we land,” Megatron said, waving Ultra Magnus away to prep the troops.

            “Do you promise?   You joining the fray may change the outcome,” Ultra Magnus said, sternly.   “After all, you may be able to appeal to his true self.”

            Megatron nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

 

**_And, meanwhile, at the very same time as all this happened, Star Saber was battling Rodimus Unicronus on Velocitron………….._ **

 

            “I can’t say this is a very good look for you,” Star Saber taunted as he pulled back into a defensive stance with his V-Saber held before him.   The old religious warrior had been a bit surprised when the new Rodimus had landed on Velocitron.   He hadn’t said much of anything, but looked around a lot—as if evaluating everything around him.

            And _then_ Rodimus Unicronus threw the first punch, which dented the red shield emblem on Star Saber’s chest and knocked him back into some rocks.   At that point, Star Saber knew he had to hold out until others got there, because he realized even _with_ his skills and Victory Armour—he may _not_ be able to actually defeat  this new Rodimus.   And that thought galled him, but he was _not_ yet ready to die.   He _had to live_ , because of Wing Dagger and the promise he made to his dying friend on that day so long ago—to bring the light of Primus to the universe!

            When the Avatar of Terror _did_ speak, it was not in response to Star Saber’s time-killing taunts—and the tones were straightforward and serious, for the most part.   There wasn’t much of Rodimus’ good humour and daring left in him………..this was the opposite of everything Star Saber knew of Rodimus’ personality.   Rodimus’ very frame had been altered, expanded and modified almost beyond recognition.   The size and bulk was on comparison with Star Saber’s own, in the Victory Armour—meaning he’d compare in size easily to Ultra Magnus and Megatron as well.    The color scheme was certainly more villainous—black and purple, all very dark and very moody.   Though, Unicron had reinstated the actual flame emblem on Rodimus’ chest—instead of the modified flame-shape Rodimus now wore……….flames of black and purple—flames to destroy and obliterate.   The head and faceplate had been remolded entirely—in fact, Star Saber would call it the “Face of Unicron”, if he had to label it……….the unique square-ish structure, impression lines and attribute (which an organic species would call a “moustache and goatee”).   The tempered glass over the optics was now red and in a visor-shaped form, while the glow inside them was Unicron’s chaotic black.

            Rodimus Unicronus simply shrugged at Star Saber’s taunt on his looks and rushed in faster than a bulk of that size should be able to move, slamming the old religious warrior to the dusty ground and stomping down hard on his legs.   Star Saber groaned as pain flared through the Victory Armour and sent messages to his main system’s queue for damage assessment   Star Saber grumbled under his breath and rolled to his feet, using his jetpack to get up in the air and a little ways away from the Avatar of Terror.   For certain he had to get up off of his crushed legs, they were now useless!

            “Dammit…………he had to target my legs, right after Velocity fixed them,” the old warrior muttered.

            “Are you too weak for your own armour?”  Rodimus Unicronus asked, gazing up at Star Saber.   “Perhaps you should shed your cowardly protections and fight me with the convictions of your belief in Primus…..?”  The Avatar of Terror replied in dry taunt, motioning up at the floating warrior.

            _Cowardly_?   He had **_no right_**.   He had no right to mock the armour that Wing Dagger made!   Star Saber snarled a low curse and ejected his general frame out of the Victory Armour and plunged down at the corrupted Rodimus, his V-Saber pointed downwards to pierce as he fell at rapid speed.  The Victory Armour crashed to the ground, making a crater in the dusty Velocitronian surface.

            The Avatar of Terror caught the V-Saber in a single hand, his right hand.  It slid a little, cutting open Rodimus Unicronus’ palm, but he did not acknowledge any sensation of discomfort or pain.   “As expected, any followers of Primus are _weaklings_ ,” the dark corrupted Autobot taunted in his monotonous, dry voice.

            Star Saber’s general frame trembled as he bellowed in fury, crushing downwards with all of his strength.   And more strength than he thought he could summon, because the Avatar of Terror was mocking Primus!   The V-Saber slid even further in Rodimus Unicronus’ hand, cutting even deeper into the palm.  Cybertronian blood, that familiar glowing pink-purple shade, began staining the length of the blade and dripped off of the tip.

            “Looks like a deity’s Avatar can bleed just as normally as us pilgrims,” Star Saber chuckled.   He would _not_ let it end here.   He would **_not_** let his and Wing Dagger’s dream die here!

            “Blood is nothing to me, terror is my fuel,” the corrupted Rodimus responded with a very evil grin.  With his free left hand, he reached up to grab Star Saber’s shoulder and then twisted to slam the old religious warrior to the ground.   Rodimus Unicronus let go of the V-Saber and dropped it on top of the stunned Cybertronian’s chest, drops of his own blood splattering his foe as well.

            “Terror is a weakness……..and I do not have such a weakness,” the religious soldier laughed.  “ _Multi-out_!”  He snapped.   Star Saber’s general frame gave a strange shimmer in the chest region and his original frame phased out of the final shell around it.   He was **_small_** , barely taller than a native of Devisen………the primary color of his original frame was white, with red chest paneling as well as blue boots and helmet.   However small he looked, he had great strength even in his original frame, as well as all of his skills with a sword that was now far longer than he was.

            As Star Saber phased out of the general frame, he scooped up his V-Saber and slammed upwards very hard.   The blade slid through the Avatar of Terror’s shoulder.   However, this appeared to do no damage to Rodimus Unicronus either.   Though some blood dripped from the new wound, all he did was simply smile that evil grin again.

            “You _are_ persistent,” the Avatar of Terror chuckled, reaching down to grab the small robot.

            All of the sudden, Rodimus Unicronus was blindsided by someone tackling him from behind.   A mass of fighters formed a distant semi-circle, weapons ready to fire on command.   Ultra Magnus quickly swept a foot through the corrupted Rodimus’ legs and brought him to the ground hard, stomping a foot solidly on his back to try and disrupt all systems for a few moments.   The Avatar of Terror merely chuckled and swung his body over fast, throwing out an aimless chop to try and hit Ultra Magnus’ leg.

            “You are all acting out in futility, _chaos_ shall dominate the universe,” the corrupted Autobot responded calmly as he stood up and faced Ultra Magnus.   Ultra Magnus pulled back into a ready stance, waiting for Rodimus Unicronus’ next move.  “How boring……….another one in layers of armour—why do you hide your true self?”  He taunted, darkly.

            “You appear to be a bit more chatty than Galvatron……..I wonder where Rodimus is inside of you?”  Ultra Magnus snapped, focused on the battle.

            That jab looked to have a small effect……….a frown set itself on the Avatar of Terror’s face.   And perhaps the corrupted Rodimus’ next move was not as thought out and calm as it should’ve been………as he rushed straight at Ultra Magnus.  Punches were thrown, the feet danced in combat steps.   The one thing Ultra Magnus always had praised  Rodimus for was his battle skills—he could _never_ fault Rodimus’ skills in combat.  Now that Unicron had enhanced Rodimus with bulk and strength, he was easily an even match for Ultra Magnus’ natural strength and impressive combat skills.

            “This is too easy……….shall I rip the _real you_ out of this senseless armour?”  Rodimus Unicronus chuckled, cracking his knuckles and then drew back his fists for a two-armed punch—which he aimed directly at Ultra Magnus’ chest.

            But then Megatron was immediately there, catching his corrupted sparkmate’s fists in his own hands.   His strength was more than a match for the Avatar of Terror’s, especially now that he was allowed to have normal Energon again (since the Fool’s Energon was revealed to be more of a watered-down placebo).   Megatron was saddened to see the condition of the body of the one he loved…………his gorgeous, sweet, flirtatious Rodimus was gone—the lines were all now bulk and unnatural strength.

            “Ah, you have decided not to hide this time,” the corrupted Autobot chuckled softly, with his strange and monotone voice.

            “I want my precious sparkmate back, Unicron!”  Megatron growled, fiercely.  The old gladiator held his ground, firm grip on Rodimus Unicronus’ fists, and not budging an inch.

            The Avatar of Terror’s visored optics glowed fiercely, an indescribable black in their depths and the voice changed completely.  “Perhaps you should have taken better care of him?”  Unicron responded through his puppet’s body.   “But now at least you have a chance to see him one last time before you die………” Unicron added, laughing madly.   Then he allowed his Avatar to have his body back to continue the fight.

            Megatron realized this stalemate couldn’t go on for too much longer.   If Rodimus were himself, Megatron could very easily overpower him………..but now that he had been enhanced by the God of Chaos—the enhancement plus his youth may even outlast Megatron’s strength and power.

            **[Fortress Maximus!  Please tell me you were able to do it?!]**   Megatron snapped over his personal comm-link, after receiving a ping from the devoted law officer.

            **[For now, but I don’t think I can keep it up for too long—manual control of a dead Titan is exhausting!]**   Max responded.

            “Now, now……….you _mustn’t_ become distracted,” Rodimus Unicronus chided of Megatron.

            “I’m _not_ distracted, I am merely putting my plans into motion,” Megatron responded.

            Instantly, the former warlord let go of the Avatar of Terror’s fists and propelled himself backwards hard and fast.   A shadow appeared above, right before the full weight of a Titan’s body came crashing down on Unicron’s puppet.   The corrupted Rodimus groaned as he used all of his unnatural strength to push back against the Titan’s fist.  He could barely lift it off of his body and then transformed into his vehicle mode to get out of the way fast.   The alt mode was a massive camper trailer with flames emblazoned on its sides.   Rodimus Unicronus sped away from the Titan’s general area and then swerved around, transforming into primary mode as he spun to face the combat area, tire treads and feet leaving a strange merging of skid marks in the Veloctronian surface.

            “I applaud your plan,” the Avatar of Terror responded with a wicked grin.  Then he paused, tilting his head as if he were listening to something.   And he _was_ —he was listening to his master’s voice inside his head.  “ _Hm_.  Another time, then,” Rodimus Unicronus sighed, leaping into the air and flying off at an impossible speed.

            Fortress Maximus relaxed with relief inside of his control center of the Titan.   All of the sudden, the control harness he was fastened to seemed to constrict and twist and the law officer found himself hanging upsidedown in the control center.

            “Ack!   I’m stuck in the harness………… _Cerebros_!!!”  Max cried anxiously.

            Megatron overheard the anxious cries for help and shook his head, chuckling softly to himself.   At least this gambit worked, they stopped Rodimus Unicronus from destroying Velocitron.   But Rodimus was gone……..buried so deep in the darkness of Unicron’s chaos that he couldn’t seem to be reached.   _Not by **him**_.

            “Well, my general frame is a mess, my Victory Armour is trashed………not a win, by any means,” Star Saber sighed, standing next to Megatron and planting the tip of his V-Saber in the ground.   In his original frame, Star Saber barely came up to Megatron’s knees—the planted V-Saber was even taller than him!  “Perhaps you should let Drift have a go at him?”  He asked, looking up at Megatron.

            **[Megatron!   Rodimus just landed on Necroworld!   We’re………!]**   Drift’s voice snapped into Megatron’s personal comm-link system.

            Megatron clenched a fist.  “ _Dammit_ ……….of course!”  He growled, barking out orders for everyone to get back to the _Crimson Light_ ASAP.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Drift held his greatsword up, standing before the corrupted body of his dearest friend.   He could hardly believe the enhancement that Unicron had made to Rodimus’ frame.   The former Decepticon warrior was aware of a lot of people gathered somewhere back behind him—so he could not allow the Avatar of Terror take any steps towards them.

            “ _Hmmmm_ ,” Rodimus Unicronus murmured, looking around.  He gazed through and past the frightened and huddled masses.   While he scanned the planet, he was listening to his master’s voice inside of him.

            “Rodimus………..can you hear me?”  Drift said, firmly.   “Listen to my voice, my dearest _Amica_ ……….”

            The corrupted Autobot’s head swiveled to look at him.   But there was a look of bewilderment in his face.   “There’s nothing here my Master wants.   He thought, because you all protected this tiny world so fiercely, that it had some kind of significance,” he sighed, shaking his head lightly.

            “Rodimus……….you must listen to me,” Drift called, putting all the love he had for his beloved friend in his voice.   He looked at the Avatar of Terror’s aura and…………..there simply was _no aura_ there.

            “No point.  The one you love is long gone, you must face the truth of that,” the corrupted Autobot replied with his monotone voice.  “There’s no point to mess with anything here.”   And as soon as he said that, he leaped into the air and flew off at his impossible speed.

            “ _Are we in danger_?”  “ _What should we do_?!”  “ _That was so scary_!!!”  Voices like that echoed all around.

            Roller immediately stepped up to try and calm the crowd with his small security staff.

            “I guess **_I_** couldn’t reach him, either,” Drift murmured, sadly.  “He’s _lost_ in the darkness………”

            Cyclonus, who had been beside Drift with his own greatsword drawn, just nodded gravely.   Then he held up a questioning hand.  “It seems slightly odd that Unicron found _nothing_ of interest here,” he said, when he had Drift’s attention.   “Is he _not_ privy to Rodimus’ thoughts, then?   Would he _not_ recognize the potential importance here?”  He inquired.

            Drift gazed at Cyclonus with a bit of surprise on his faceplate.  “You’re right.  Then that means that Unicron has corrupted him, but _can’t_ access all of his thoughts and memories,” the former Decepticon warrior murmured softly.

            “Then perhaps we simply need to access the _right_ memories?   A _trigger_ of some sort?”  Cyclonus asked, shrugging his shoulders.

            “I think you might be right.   But _how_?”  Drift sighed.  He reached up to tap his audial and activate his personal comm-link to call Megatron.  **[Megatron………..Unicron doesn’t know all of Rodimus’ memories.   Can you think of _any_ way to trigger any access to Rodimus’ _real_ memories?   If we can _just_ make a small crack…….. _maybe_ we can reach him?]**   He said to the former Decepticon Leader.

            **[Hmmmm.  Drift, I’m going to go to Cybertron,]**   Megatron responded.   **[Perhaps there _is_ someone who can make that crack…………?]  ** He trailed off.

            Drift was puzzled at the somewhat…………jealous (?)............tone in Megatron’s voice.   Then he relayed what Megatron said to Cyclonus next to him.

            “ _Ah_.   He’s hoping for _Spark memory_ ,” Cyclonus murmured.  “Megatron is going to go get Blaze of Nyon and take a gamble on the deepest buried feelings within Rodimus.”

            “Wait a sec, I was under the impression that this Blaze person was _dead_!”  Drift gasped.

            “He was _supposed_ to be dead, but apparently he was _not_.  And Rodimus lost all of his memories of Blaze with the injury he suffered,” Cyclonus sighed.  He remembered the encounter with Blaze of Nyon, the mercenary who gave up everything Cybertronian for his ego.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Please _don’t_ kill him, though…….he has a lifetime imprisonment sentence,” Starscream sighed as he and Ironhide escorted Megatron to the prison cells.

            “I promise I will control myself,” Megatron chuckled softly at his former lieutenant’s admonishments.  “Have security stand nearby, so that he will feel safer in talking to me,” he added, smiling at Starscream.

            “ _Love_ has changed you Megatron.  I hope that you don’t change back,” Starscream said, softly, just for Megatron to hear.   “But then, I know _exactly_ how love can change you.   So, do not let it fade.”   Then he brought back his serious leader of Cybertron mask.  “When you’re done, call and we’ll escort you back to your ship,” the old Seeker said with a bored sigh and hand-wave as he walked away.

            “Hey………..” Blaze said from inside the cell.  He was lying on the recharge slab, holding a viewing tablet above him.  “You ever seen this?”  He asked, not even looking at Megatron as he turned the sound up on the tablet and held the screen facing towards the cell door and his visitor.

            **_< Bumblebee says it’s your duty to stay here,>_** Rodimus’ voice was saying.  It was so strong and powerful with deep conviction.  **_< Your duty to stay on a planet you no longer recognize, among people who resent you for the sacrifices you’ve made in their name!>_**  Then Rodimus’ voice paused dramatically.  Megatron couldn’t see the tiny images on the screen, but he recognized the recruitment speech for Rodimus’ quest to find the Knights of Cybertron.  **_< I say you’ve done your duty!   The war is over!   And that day you thought would never come?  That’s today!  You’ve earned the right to see the universe without a gun in your hand!   Come with me to Cyberutopia and find our glorious brethren!>_**

            “Yes, I’ve seen it,” Megatron said, a warm smile on his faceplate.   Although he’d also heard the rumours that Drift wrote Rodimus’ speech, Megatron really didn’t think so.   Megatron could tell that Rodimus was speaking from the depths of his Spark—and he didn’t believe it was that much of a “prepared speech”.   Certainly some of the elements were prepared and Rodimus was probably given some influence on a few things to say, but the _passion_ that was in his voice as he spoke—it told Megatron that the speech was _not prepared_ , it was spoken with **_true desire_**.   And he didn’t simply say that because he loved Rodimus—as someone who’s given a good many speeches, he knew something about giving them!

            “It’s hard to believe that quiet, little Hot Rod became all _this_ ,” Blaze chuckled, warmly, brushing the screen of the viewing tablet.

            “It’s _your_ fault, you know,” Megatron said, very seriously.  “He _became you_ , after he believed you to be dead.”

            “That is also a thing I find hard to believe,” Blaze responded with a light laugh.  “But _here_ it is……. _all right here_.   Newsclips, files, archives…………” he added, tapping his finger against the side of the tablet.  “You’re a lucky ‘bot, Megatron—Rodimus is a fine catch.  I was stupid to toss him aside for my own dumb beliefs.”

            Then Blaze stood up and walked over to the bars of the cell.

            “What happened to him?  Is he still alive?”  Blaze asked, softly.  “In here, it’s really hard to pick apart the truth from rumours in here…………..”

            “That’s why I’m here, to see you right now,” Megatron said, keeping his voice even.   He folded his arms against his chest and incycled a deep breath.  “Unicron has taken him and corrupted him, using the anger he had at Getaway for stealing the ship and killing crew members to solidify his command.   The God of Chaos has buried him so deep in the darkness that I can’t reach him.”  Megatron paused, shaking his head, an ache growing in his Spark.   He didn’t want to think about this, he just _didn’t_!  “Even Drift, who loves him as much as I do………..Drift could not reach him, either.”  
            Blaze chuckled.  “And you think **_I_** can?   Didn’t he forget about me?”  He laughed.

            “He may not remember you, because of the injury, but I _think_ he remembers his feelings for you.   They’re so much deeper in his core than anything else—he changed all that he was because the loss of his sparkmate was more than he could bear,” Megatron responded, his deep voice sad and quiet.

            “So, you’re willing to take a desperate gamble on that?   What if I can’t reach him either?”  Blaze said, sharply, glaring at Megatron with a ferocity in his optics that Megatron had never seen before.   Blaze………Blaze _still loved_ Rodimus—he knew what he did, regretted it when he saw how broken Rodimus was without him, and resolved to stay out of Rodimus’ life forever.   In a fit of jealous rage, he’d stabbed Rodimus back on the _Lost Light_ …………but then saw everyone scrambling so desperately to save him—and he realized so many other people loved him and didn’t want to see him die.   That calmed his jealous rage and made him feel nothing but regret for the way he’d always treated Hot Rod—for _stabbing_ Rodimus.

            Megatron turned away from the former mercenary, unable to answer Blaze’s question.   If Rodimus could not be saved………….what more did Megatron have to remain here for?   The former Decepticon Leader was not the type to take his own life—the one thing he had learned since his trial was that he really _did not want to die_.   The trial………and it’s distant, likely ending was a great fear to him.   But Megatron meant what he’d said to Optimus Prime.   If Rodimus were forever gone from his life………..he had no desire to be around anybody anymore.  He would _rather_ be eternally alone than to be without that younger partner of his.

            “You’re awfully quiet over there, Megatron,” Blaze said with a gentle chuckle.

            “If we _cannot_ save Rodimus, then all light in my universe is gone,” Megatron answered, very carefully, turning away from the mercenary.   He had to choose his words carefully.   There were security cameras everywhere and if Starscream heard him say he’d run away—security would immediately slam him into one of these cells without  any warning.

            Blaze smiled.  If anything, he never expected the tyrant of the past four million years to be like this—so emotionally vulnerable.   However, he knew what it was like to be with Rodimus………or at least, when he was Hot Rod, he _knew what it was like_.   That joy for life…………..when Hot Rod truly smiled at you, it was like the universe had opened up with warmth and light.

            “What do **_I_** get out of this?   I need _something_ to motivate me!”   Blaze laughed.

            “What would you _want_?   I take that back…….what would you want that’s within any sort of reasonable compromise?”   Megatron asked, curiously, turning back towards Blaze.

            “Well, I think I’d like to change my settings,” Blaze responded, a huge grin on his faceplate.  “Something like _you_.   I was wondering…………..maybe on _Caminus_ —learn about the _Way of Flame_.”   He pointed out the flames emblazoned on his chest and arms.   “I mean……… _really_!  I am **_totally_** about flames!”  He joked, a massive smile on his lips.

            Megatron gave a wry smile and shook his head.  “I’ll speak to Starscream and Windblade, but you seriously _cannot_ make jokes about that,” he said, firmly.  “You can’t joke about it to any Camien…….” He trailed off in warning.

            Then he opened his comm-link to speak with Starscream, asked for an escort back—and if he could speak to the two leaders of Cybertron for a few moments.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            About an hour later, Megatron returned to the Necrobot’s world with Blaze.   Blaze was being overly friendly, chatting with everyone on the ship……….and generally it annoyed Megatron.  _Primus_ ………Blaze was **_exactly_** how Rodimus used to act—even more proof that Rodimus had become his sparkmate when he believed him dead.   As Megatron started walking Blaze to the citadel for planning………….

            Suddenly Blaze gave a warm chuckle and zipped in front of Megatron, stopping the tall and bulky mech by reaching up to clap him on the shoulders.

            “Look, I’m not sure whether you two are good together or what, but I’m seeing a _whole different Megatron_ than the one who existed during the war,” Blaze said, seriously.  “And I heard Rodimus say he _loved_ you.  **_So!_**   You two apparently do have _something_ going on………….and it’s worth saving him.  Hang in there.”

            Megatron _never_ thought he’d get a pep talk from Blaze.

            As they walked past the _Lost Light_ on their way to the citadel, Megatron noticed a strange, dilapidated old ship next to their main vessel.   The former Decepticon Leader looked at the battered old craft strangely……..it had a general Cybertronian design, more rounded—which made Megatron think “Autobot” in design.  However, there were handpainted Decepticon symbols on the flare wings.   The way the painting was done seemed strangely familiar to the former warlord…………….

            “Some of your old soldiers showed up here,” Drift said with a sigh as he met Megatron and Blaze at the entrance to the citadel.  He pointed at the ship.   “However, from some of their stories, they sound like they’ve been having rather often bizarre adventures like _us_ …………….” the old warrior chuckled, motioning for the two to come in.  “They have picked up a very interesting stray……..” Drift trailed off.

            “Well, by the lost Luna I and all the stars in the universe………….it honestly and truly is the one and only Megatron,” a familiar voice said as they stepped into the atrium.   “To be honest, I was thinking it was all Autobot propaganda to facilitate the end of the war and all sorts of exciting things.”

            The Decepticon soldier’s sarcasm was _not_ lost on Megatron—nor was the revelation of the identity of the one who obviously owned the ship outside.   If anyone could ever survive on their own without the Decepticon empire, it would be Krok.   But having a ship means he obviously had some sort of crew.   Especially considering Drift referred to “them” in his statements.

            “I am pleased to see you’re still among the living, Krok,” Megatron responded, trying to figure out exactly what expression he should have here in this instance.   He wasn’t in the mood for kindness, but he shouldn’t be aggressive or angry at this moment either.  “Is that _your_ junky little vessel out there?”  Megatron asked, trying to pretend to start a polite conversation.

            “I’ll ignore the blatant insult and get right to business,” Krok chuckled wryly.   “It would be wrong to say we hadn’t ever heard of this Rodimus’ grand exploits, his silly crew of do-gooders and their death-defying adventures.   So, we figured if anyone in this universe might have an idea of what we’ve found, it might be Rodimus and his crew.”

            “Rodimus isn’t here,” Megatron responded instantly, and immediately on guard with his words.

            “That’s right, because a bunch of stupid prophesies are coming true,” Krok responded, shrugging lightly.

            “Prophesies?”  The former miner and gladiator inquired, for the first time in this conversation becoming invested in it.

            Krok handed Megatron a data tablet and motioned for his former leader to follow him down the hallway.   Megatron began reading the notes as they walked.

            “I recognize Spinister’s atrocious elaborate wording here,” the co-captain of the _Lost Light_ murmured.  That meant he was right about the painted Decepticon symbols on the craft.   “Wait a moment.  _Where_ ……did you find these prophesies?”  He snapped, suddenly stopping right in the middle of the hallway.

            “You’ve seen that big thing outside that Necrobot has a bunch of names on?”  The yellow and purple Decepticon inquired, waving a hand to accentuate his words.  “Well, we found these words etched on a similar block on a far backwater planet that his seriously called _‘Purple Rain’_ by its natives.”

            “That’s _got_ to be a joke,” Drift groaned, facepalming himself.

            “Nope, it’s _not_ —I’ve been there before,” Blaze responded, grinning.  “Super-primitive organics, though—they’d never be able to carve anything on an obelisk like that.   Somebody else must have planted the obelisk there.”

            “The murder of death.  The chaos in the darkness.  The corruption of life.  The union of five.  The light in the center.  The one who bears god’s life………….” Megatron murmured, reading the shortened versions of the translated prophesies.  “Some of these have actually _happened_ ………………” he trailed off.

            “I figured that when we reached here and heard the Necrobot was killed.  Our stray also picked up something on that weird little world that is eerily similar to the Enigma of Combination,” Krok responded, making everyone stop when they reached a small conference room.  “Hey Grimlock, is it okay to bring in some company?”  He asked, holding everyone back from entering the room yet.

            “ _Mmmmmm_ ,” the large Dinobot mumbled, nodding.  He was in his primary mode, staring at a slightly glowing object on the table before him.

            Megatron walked around to the opposite side of the table so he could get a good look at the object.   It had a silver casing, but the photonic crystal that could be seen housed inside of it was glowing a soft red shade.   The silver casing was vaguely round, with crimson metal “wings” emanating from the edges of it.  Grimlock glanced up at Megatron, their optics meeting for a moment before the Dinobot went back to staring at the object.  Megatron cupped his chin thoughtfully……..he wondered if this was one of Shockwave’s many experiments when he had been trying to recreate the Matrix of Leadership or the Enigma of Combination…..?

            “It’s _Dinobot_ ,” Grimlock suddenly said, in a simple manner, looking up at Megatron again.  “It’s…..telling me to find the others……….” he trailed off, his deep voice sounded pained and strained.

            “Spinister and Misfire have worked really hard on rehabilitating Grim,” Krok murmured softly to Drift and Blaze, as the three of them stood near the door.  “When we found him, he couldn’t even speak or even really think for himself.  He lashed out and was only full of pain.   But Grim’s come a really long way since then and finding this object has made him very introspective.”

            “The other Dinobots are on _Cybertron_.  Do you want to go to Cybertron, Grimlock?”  Megatron asked quietly, looking down at the former commander of the Dinobots.

            Grimlock suddenly looked very torn.  He placed his hands gently around the sides of the foreign object that seemed so familiar to him.  There was a part of him that truly wanted to remain with the crew of the _W.A.P._ , but he suddenly knew that there was something that desperately needed to be done.   He could no longer afford to be selfish and keep on this current course of his life………………

            “Yes, I _need_ to go,” Grimlock finally responded to Megatron, his deep voice soft and quiet.

            “We can take you there,” Megatron responded , placing a hand gently on Grimlock’s forearm.  “Unicron took the one I love and he will likely send him against Cybertron soon enough,” he added, thinking about this set of prophesies that Krok’s crew just brought him.

            If they were all coming true, then maybe…………….?

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Starscream had to admit, he was very surprised to see Megatron again so soon………….and not just with a twenty-man crew of his own people, but some very odd tagalongs:  Krok and Spinister……..as well as Grimlock.  Plus Blaze.

            “You’re starting to become like Rodimus, picking up strays along the way,” Starscream chuckled.

            “ _They_ came to see us,” Megatron responded.   “Miss Faireborn, I appreciate your hospitality in hosting us,” he said, dipping his shoulders slightly at the young human woman.

            “The Dinobots tend to wander the area around Trypticon,” Marissa said, checking the functions in her bio-suit before they prepared to leave the controlled climate of Metroplex.  “I think until the protoforms are fully grown, everyone’s a little protective of them.”

            “I apologize that you are forced to deal with me,” Megatron said politely.

            “Everyone is entitled to seek their redemption,” the young woman responded.  “Thundercracker seems to speak very highly of you and I’ve spoken with Soundwave as well,” Marissa added as she watched Megatron transform into his alt mode.   It was a tank, so she climbed up to sit in the top gunner’s seat, making sure her mag-clamps were locked down.   “Both alluded that more happened than what the general historical records say, but I think it’s the nature of history.  The _winners_ write the books and sometimes the truth becomes lost or swept away.”   Then Marissa glanced over at Grimlock, who was in his Tyrannosaurus alt mode, glancing around excitedly with his tail twitching.   “To me, it sounds like Cybertron’s politics and past are just as dark and dirty as anything on Earth…………so, it makes sense that it isn’t _simply_ good versus evil,” she added with a soft sigh.

            Marissa gave general directions to the area where Trypticon was right now.  Megatron’s armoured heavy transport form could move at a surprisingly faster clip than an Earth tank, that was for sure!   It was strange, here she was with possibly two of the strongest offensively powerful warriors in all of Cybertron’s history and she found she wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

            Perhaps it was because she recognized fellow soldiers when she saw them.   After all, her own father had been a leadership circle member of the elite forces unit of G.I. Joe—she, herself, had a commander’s role in the EDC.   She had been around military members all of her life, so she knew what it was like to be around that type.    Marissa had also watched Megatron defend Rodimus in front of the council not that long ago.   She had to admit a bit of amazement and bewilderment at how the Cybertronians attached to each other and formed relationships—oddly, not unlike Earthlings.   But clearly with a very limited view of gender and no such thing as stereotyped gender roles, the Cybertronians and colonies had no such tags for gender prejudice and sexual (if you could call it that) preference prejudices either.

            Then there was Megatron himself.  Marissa had grown up with the horror stories of when Earth had been conquered for a time by the Decepticons—it was the reason units like the EDC had come about, as well as why there was heavy prejudice against all Cybertronians.   But seeing Megatron so passionately defend his younger partner, the softer-spoken Rodimus—the way Megatron seemed to be so concerned over everything to do with the one he loved……..it changed the way she viewed the former dictator and warlord.

            “Ah, there are so many questions I still have………and I don’t know what to ask first,” Marissa sighed, smiling inside of her helmet.   She figured Megatron would honestly answer her questions as much as Starscream had in the council room.   “Before, when we all met, everyone went silent when they were talking about hotspots.   Why was that?   It almost looked like it was becoming _painful_ to Starscream especially.”

            “It can bring up a very sensitive subject—and that is the concept of _‘constructed cold’_ ,” Megatron began softly.  “Cybertronians born of hotspots are called _‘forged’_ , but long ago when the hotspots began dying out—Nova Prime and his scientists came up with the idea of Spark-splicing—they cut off bits of healthy Sparks to artificially grow new ones and place them in a specially constructed body.   This is called _‘constructed cold’_ and brings up unhappy feelings all around.   Those who were constructed cold were basically slave labor and cannon fodder.”

            “Oh.  Starscream must be one, then,” Marissa murmured.

            “I am constructed cold, as well,” Megatron answered, firmly.  “I was designed to merely mine Energon ore and I was to have no purpose beyond that.”  Megatron paused for a moment.  It was a lot to explain to her, but he tried to keep it as simple as possible.  “At the time, the majority in the Senate were the Functionists—these were Cybertronians who believed that we could only be doing jobs that our alt mode was designed for.  Myself, I transformed into a drill tank—I’ve changed my alt mode many times since.   Starscream was an exploration jet—so he was assigned to the military flight corps.”   Megatron paused again to try and condense his thoughts.   “But I was one who did not wish to be locked in the mines until my death, I began speaking of freedom from our alt modes and Functionism………….my uprising, which became the Decepticon Movement, was always meant to be peaceful.  Except the Senate had my brain altered by surgeons and it took a sad turn into our very long war…………..because of the war many more were constructed cold on both sides.  And over time prejudice sometimes occurred by those who were _‘forged’_ and who were _‘constructed cold’_.”

            “But how do you know which is which?”  The human woman asked, softly.

            “It is harder to tell with the early constructed cold models, like me—I was born in a city, so I have the name of the city of where I came online, Megatron _of Tarn_ ,” the old gladiator responded.   “Forged Cybertronians always have the name of a city in their designation—Rodimus’ full name, using his old name, is _Hot Rod of Nyon_ , he is **_forged_**.   As the war grew and cities fell, Sparks were thawed on the battlefields, they are also called MTOs—Made-to-Order soldiers……and those constructed cold Cybertronians are named after the incursion they were born in.  Because it is a sensitive subject and I won’t name true names, I will give you a made-up example…….say you know a mech named Portbolt and you ask his full-name, and he happens to be an MTO.  He would respond that his name is Portbolt of Operation:  Bloody Dawn.”

            Marissa sighed and took in all the information.  “It seems your history and your governments are not so different than what we’ve had on Earth,” she responded, then she realized they had reached the edge of Trypticon’s boundaries.  “Ah, we’re here already.  I had hoped to ask _more questions_ …….” she murmured.

            “If you have downtime when Starscream does, you really _should_ ask him many of your questions.  I don’t think he will be too offended by most of them.  Almost all of the others would throw a reader tablet at you, but I doubt you could read old or modern Cybertronian.  Starscream can be a conniving little backstabber, but as long as you keep him in your line of sight you should have nothing to worry about,” Megatron added with a wry chuckle.   He transformed into his primary mode after Marissa Faireborn had jumped down to the ground.

            “I have a feeling that Windblade will keep him well in line,” Marissa laughed.  “Trypticon……..have you seen the Dinobots recently?”  She asked, lightly tapping one of the city’s outer walls.

            “They’re around,” Trypticon responded, distractedly.  “Playing with the _babies_.”

            Megatron noted how Trypticon spoke and began to wonder if the ancient Titan chose to identify as female now, then?   “I think the Dinobots would……………find me unpleasant.  Miss Faireborn, will you go with Grimlock and I can wait here with the Enigma?” he said as Grimlock handed him the object with his small Tyrannosaurus hands.

            The former warlord watched them go with a soft sigh.  His thoughts turned inwards as he sat down on an outcropping of metallic stone nearby.   He wondered if Rodimus was suffering—wherever he was at?  Everything he was doing now, as Rodimus Unicronus, went against his beliefs of protecting all life.   Could Rodimus even be saved from this dark destiny he had fallen into……..?  As for himself, Megatron knew _he_ was suffering………and he now understood how Rodimus felt when he spoke of the emptiness after Drift was gone.  That pain and loneliness must have felt so much worse for a younger Hot Rod—the loss of Blaze , his first love and the very center of his universe.

            Suddenly Megatron slapped a hand over his face, laughing softly at himself.  At that instant he realized he would turn around and do exactly what Hot Rod had done all those millions of years ago.   Megatron realized he would _run away_.   He’d pull a cloak of hardened emotions around himself and run away from any and all people.  He could no longer possibly chide Rodimus for ever making that dumb decision again, for here he was honestly considering doing it himself!

            “ _Ah_.   Oh, hello little ones,” Megatron said softly as he looked down and saw about four of the small protoforms staring up at him.

            “The babies know you’re suffering,” Trypticon said in a low and soft voice.

            “Yes.  Until I know whether I can save Rodimus or not, I will probably be in this state for a while,” Megatron sighed.   The protoforms were so small, a couple of them were starting to gain a more defined shape, while the others still had the soft, general rounded shape.

            In a short time, Marissa returned, on her own.  “Grimlock is happy and bonding with his friends again,” the human woman said, looking up at Megatron and bent down to give two of the protoforms hugs when they approached her.  “They’ve begun to get excited at being outside more, but should I be worried that they are not talkative as yet?”  She asked, looking up at the old gladiator.

            “Protoforms all have their own pace, like your kind’s children,” Megatron answered with a smile.  Acclimating them to humans at this young age will probably be one of the best things to happen to the protoforms………..they could grow without the prejudices that old mechs like himself had.  “You will find that some will grow at a faster pace than others.  Technically, when they receive their names………you could give them the name of where the hotspot ignited, but since they achieved protoform here in Trypticon—they should likely all have the name with _‘of Trypticon’_ attached to them.”

            At that, the ancient Titan gave a soft purring sound.  Marissa decided she would remember that.   Clearly it would make Trypticon happy for them to have the city name of their Titan attached to their name.

            “Would it be alright if I ask you another few questions while we wait for Grimlock to see what it is he wants to do?”  Marissa asked.  Megatron nodded down at her.   She folded her arms and continued.  “About you and Rodimus.  Can I ask how true you feel your relationship is, as it seems to be fairly recent……?  You see, my parents are divorced, but they always claim they loved each other when I was born.   I’ve always wondered how people decide when love is a permanent thing?”

            “We would all like to believe love is something permanent, but I think we all know it isn’t,” Megatron began, softly, internally looking up the term of “divorced” from his Earth dictionary.  “But every relationship starts somewhere and grows from there.  I’ve been accused by my own psychiatrist of founding our relationship through _Lock-Set Syndrome_ ………..” he chuckled softly.

            “Lock-Set Syndrome?”  Marissa asked, tilting her head, puzzled.

            Megatron fished through his Earth dictionary to try and find an appropriate equivalent.   There were several terms he could choose, but he chose one specific one, as it applied to the situation he and Rodimus had started at.

            “I think we could possibly use the term Stockholm Syndrome in this case, for you,” the former Decepticon Leader answered.  “I had locked him in my room until I could make sure he would no longer take his own life.   Which, I suppose, could induce his desire for me……………however, it would not quite explain why I would fall in love with him.   I don’t think I could ever define it, I simply love him and that is all.”

            “I suppose I see where they are coming from, but for the two of you it sounds like love hasn’t been all that easy………so perhaps it means your feelings are more honest with one another,” Marissa responded, shrugging lightly.   “Even if it developed out of a syndrome, I suppose as long as you’ve both worked on founding something true, then the rest doesn’t really matter.”

            Just as Marissa was getting ready to ask another question, Grimlock returned…….still in his alt mode, but he seemed a little shy right now—kind of a strange look from a Tyrannosaurus.

            “I want to stay with Dinobots,” Grimlock said, with great sadness in his voice, however.  “Enigma can stay in Trypticon until it is needed.   Will you tell them good-bye and thank you?  The Dinobot Commander asked, looking at Megatron.  His stilted, deep voice still showed a few signs of its old damage, but the words were well thought out.

            “Of course I will, Grimlock,” Megatron answered, standing up and handing the Dinobot Enigma back to the Tyrannosaurus.  “Please take care of yourself.”

            “I hope that you find the one you’ve lost,” Grimlock responded.

            “Thank you,” Megatron said with a soft little smile.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            As Megatron returned to the area of Metroplex, he was looking at pure chaos.   Both Galvatron and Rodimus Unicronus were there, attacking the Titan city.  It made Megatron wonder just how close Unicron may be to Cybertron now…?  All who were able to fight were trying their best to defend Metroplex and stave off the attackers.  He looked around for the crew of the _Crimson Light_ and their tagalongs when suddenly a now-familiar bulky frame landed right in front of him.

            “Rodimus!”  Megatron gasped, backing into a defensive stance.

            The Avatar of Terror raised a hand, waving a finger as he clicked his tongue in disappointment.  “Now, now………when will you ever learn?”  The corrupted Autobot chuckled.  He rushed forwards to attack the old gladiator………

            “ _Too easy_ ,” a new voice laughed, suddenly there in front of Megatron and they grabbed Rodimus Unicronus’ arm, tossing him away easily by using the momentum and weight of the bulkier frame against him.  “Looks like he can still be pretty impetuous.   He _really_ seems to be _focused on you_!”   Blaze laughed, grinning at Megatron.

            “Thank you,” Megatron murmured, mollified by Blaze suddenly being there.   After all, it was actually what he petitioned to get the former mercenary out for………..

            “Welp, it’s time for me to do my job—so you need to go do yours, _directing traffic_ was it?”   Blaze chuckled with good humour.   Then he became instantly serious as he saw the Avatar of Terror getting up and stalking back towards them, backing up to be ready in another stance to hit or toss the opponent.

            “Directing traffic, _tch_ ,” Megatron grumbled, turning and starting to run back to the _Crimson Light_ in the landing field outside Metroplex where they parked.   But something stopped him and he looked back at the fight…….it was something in Blaze’s serious tone that made him worry for the younger mech.

            Then, suddenly, Megatron’s attention was drawn to the herd of Dinobots rushing at the city with purpose in their strides.  “Dinobots!   The time is _now_!”  Grimlock roared, holding the Dinobot Enigma above him in his primary mode.   It glowed fiercely and drew the attention of the silent Galvatron, however the corrupted Rodimus was still focused on Blaze.  “ ** _Combine into Volcanicus_**!”  The leader of the Dinobots commanded.

            The remaining four original Dinobots transformed into their primary modes and then merged together into a giant Combiner.  Meanwhile, the smaller newest member of the Dinobots sped towards Megatron.

            “Grim discovered the answer and Swoop saw the fighting right after you left,” Slash said sharply, dancing about Megatron’s feet.   She glanced back at her comrades in their combined form and then looked up at the former Decepticon Leader.  “They’re gonna focus on Galvatron for combat……………can your allies keep the black one busy?”  The smaller Dinobot asked.

            “Yes, of course…….but, Slash, would you do me a favor?”  Megatron began, gazing down at her.  “I will stay here to assist Blaze against the Avatar of Terror.  Please find my crew and ask Ratchet and Minerva to get our medi-bay ready on the _Crimson Light_ and then warn the city to get their emergency teams ready……?”  Megatron asked, softly.   “And thank you, I appreciate the update!”  He called after her as she sped away, faster than he had even ever seen Ravage run.

            After that, the former miner and gladiator turned his attention back to the fight between Blaze and Rodimus Unicronus.  He could tell that Blaze wasn’t a power-type fighter, so it looked to be an awful match against the bulkier and more powerful Avatar of Terror.   However, it became clear in a few short moments that Blaze obviously studied a _lot_ of martial arts—not just Cybertronian ones, but probably any kind of method of fighting he could pick up in the galaxy as a mercenary.   Blaze was a tricky-type of fighter, he was using _every_ advantage he could get……..from dirty, underhanded strikes to tossing the heavier fighter with momentum.   And he could certainly _dodge quickly_!

            And strangely, all of that was having an effect on the Avatar of Terror.  Cool, calm and corrupted Rodimus was actually starting to get _pissed off_ with Blaze.  Megatron had to wonder if maybe that was actually Blaze’s _special skill_ , **_pissing people off_**?!  He had to chuckle at that……..what on Cybertron had it been like _living_ with that annoying ex-mercenary?   Because Rodimus had done so for some time a long time ago when he was known as Hot Rod!   From what Megatron understood, Rodimus met Blaze at one of his final few races……..before Nyon started to be drained by Zeta Prime—so possibly a year or two they had been together before Nyon fell and they rejoined one another at the academy before Blaze’s “death” separated them.  Such a short time to be so desperately in love and become _Conjunx Endura_ —though Megatron probably shouldn’t comment on that since he roped Rodimus into it within months!

            “I’m tired of dealing with a little rat like you,” Rodimus Unicronus snapped, hopping up into the air and floating some distance above Blaze.

            Blaze simply chuckled and joined the Avatar of Terror in the air.   This move surprised Megatron greatly, there were _not_ a lot of Autobots who had the natural power of flight in their primary modes, even if their alt modes did—most had to use jetpacks of some sort, attached to their frame.

            “Awwww..........but this little rat’s having fun playing with _you_!”  Blaze laughed, doing his best to keep Rodimus Unicronus’ attention focused solely on him.

            For the first time ever, Blaze was going to do things right!   He had watched every single video clip and news article he could find about Hot Rod/Rodimus……..he saw what everyone meant, he recognized his own ego in Rodimus’ attitude on the screen.   Blaze learned that Hot Rod had become the partner he loved and treasured, because that beloved sparkmate was gone forever from his life.   At that moment, the former mercenary realized— _how_ could you be angry with someone for finally moving on, when they’d already held on to everything you were for millions of years?

            He _couldn’t_.   He simply could no longer be angry at or jealous of Rodimus.   So _that_ was why, when Megatron had shown up asking for his help—although he had acted flippant about the situation, he would do his damnedest to _save_ Rodimus.   If it hadn’t been for Blaze pretending to be dead for all these millions of years, Rodimus would’ve been different………….and he likely would never have ended up in the situation he was in now.   Rodimus’ very life would’ve been completely and utterly different, he would still be _kinder_ ………….he might even _still be_ “Hot Rod”.   And, even though Blaze was unhappy that it had been _Megatron_ that won Rodimus’ Spark…….he could not fault that they could probably become great partners with one another.

            Blaze tapped the side of his helm to change the viewing capabilities of his optics.  Over the many centuries he’d been working as a mercenary, he’d constantly upgraded his armour (though keeping his original aesthetics, as well as the flame emblem) and most especially the small things—his _joints_ , which were more flexible in ways most Cybertronians’ joints could never be, and his _optics_.  He upgraded his optics to do many different kinds of scanning—which could be helpful in any environment.   While he dodged and danced about to avoid any direct attacks from the Avatar of Terror, he scanned the altered body of his former sparkmate.

            _His chest_ …….?   What was **_that_** in his chest?!

            It was absolutely something that _did not belong there_.   Blaze could see that it was leaking dark energy into Rodimus’ body.  It was almost like a dark Spark………..or a dark version of the Matrix of Leadership (which was designed to resemble a Spark and spark-casing).   Whatever it actually was………..it _wasn’t right_!   It _did not_ belong there inside of Rodimus!   The former mercenary couldn’t evaluate what that dark energy was with any of his scanners, but he suspected it was some small part of Unicron somehow.

            Blaze took a quick glance around to see how close they were to the city and Megatron’s ship, the _Crimson Light_.   That was when he noticed Megatron hadn’t left the area.   Blaze grumbled under his breath at how he shouldn’t even be there, but he was actually glad that Megatron was still here.   It also looked like the old Autobot Chief Medical Officer was there, too………….. _Primus_ , Blaze hadn’t seen Ratchet in _forever_!   He hadn’t realized Ratchet had been on the volunteer crew going back to Cybertron—he’d spent all his time in the pilot’s deck teasing Megatron.

            Funnily enough, the two of them looked to be trading equally snarky comments, Blaze wished he could hear them.   But, a grin crept across his faceplate—he was suddenly very glad that Ratchet was there.   Because now he could do something excessively drastic and overly-dramatic!

            “You know, I really wish they appreciated you more…………. _Rodimus Prime_ ,” Blaze said, very seriously.  He drew back his right hand and then slammed it, heel primarily, into a specific spot on the Avatar of Terror’s chest.  As he did so, he gripped Rodimus Unicronus’ shoulder with his left hand and was already moving around in a swing.  “Hey, _Megs_!   **_Catch!_** ”  The former mercenary yelled loudly, throwing the unconscious corrupted Autobot down towards the former Decepticon Leader.

            As he began to float down, he kept yelling orders at the two.  “Ratchet………..you’ve got about a minute to get _that thing_ out of his chest!   I forcefully stopped his fuel pump with a shock!”  Blaze called as he watched Megatron catch his corrupted sparkmate and laid him on the ground.

            Blaze incycled a deep breath of relief as he landed next to Megatron, before sinking to the ground and plopping onto his aft.   The former mercenary watched carefully as Ratchet flipped open the Avatar of Terror’s chestplate and saw the writhing energy mass below Rodimus’ own brilliant blue Spark.   The iris of Rodimus’ own spark-casing was nearly closed, as if it were trying to protect itself from the darkness sitting in the chest below it.

            “ _Dammit_ …………why does Rodimus never make this easy?”  Ratchet mumbled and grumbled.  “ _To hell with it_ …………” he sighed, grabbing the writhing mass and yanking it out with no grace whatsoever.   The old medic looked around and then glared up at Megatron.  “I need something to put this in, _give me one of your goddamned arms_!”  He snapped.

            Megatron said absolutely nothing, not a single protest, he simply reached over with his right hand and ripped his left arm off at the elbow joint, tearing at the top side of the forearm to rip it open just enough for Ratchet to cram the strange, dark object inside—then Megatron crushed the forearm closed around the writhing mass.   Almost instantly after the object was gone, the body of the Avatar of Terror shrank and the colors changed…………bringing their familiar, precious Rodimus back to them.

            “ _Wow_.  That’s **_hardcore_** , man,” Blaze laughed, looking up at Megatron and noting the lightly sparking elbow joint and faint drips of purple-pink Cybertronian lifeblood.   For a moment, Blaze had to admire Megatron—in an instant, he killed all nerves and fuel-lifelines to his left arm, right before ripping it off.

            “Are you all right?”  Megatron asked, gazing down at Blaze with some concern in his old red optics.

            “I’m fine.  _Tired_.  Haven’t fought like that hard in a few million years,” the former mercenary chuckled.

            “ _Tch_ , it’s about time you put some effort into things, you damn brat,” Ratchet grumbled.  “But Megatron…….please explain to me _exactly_ what the hell this is and when it happened?”  The old medic growled, fully pushing open Rodimus chestplate—now that the younger Cybertronian was back to normal, the map was back on the interior of the chestplate, glowing just as brilliantly as ever.

            Megatron knelt.   “We aren’t sure of all the details, but we think that he carved it sometime after the Matrix merged with him and before Vector Sigma’s pulse, that’s why it glows.   I know things were crazy at that time, but if he were still under the influence of the Matrix even after parting with it……….it’s entirely possible he carved it all within a few hours, it’s very precise, he didn’t do this with blunt instruments—he did this with a precision instrument and _purpose_ ,” he explained quietly.  “Have you never had to open his chestplate after his fusion with the Matrix?”  He asked, curiously.

            “He’s never been injured that much that I’d had the opportunity to,” Ratchet responded with a deep sigh.   “I suppose _this_ is what Drift meant when he said Rodimus had the map _on him_.  _Gah_ ………he actually meant it **_literally_**!”   The old doctor groaned.

            “Is Rodimus okay?”  Megatron asked, softly, bending to touch his forehead to Rodimus.   Since he was now bereft of an arm and the free one was holding onto the repurposed arm, he couldn’t touch Rodimus’ face any other way.

            “You mean _Rodimus Prime_ ,” Blaze mumbled, kicking at the ground with one of his feet.

            Both Ratchet and Megatron looked over at Blaze with surprise.

            “Come on, I watched every vid-clip and read every news article I could find about him, while I was locked up,” he snapped, a bit annoyed with them both.  “He may have cloaked himself in _my ego_ , but he’s shown every single _sign of affinity_ —plus there’s _always_ been that space in his chest!   Unicron knew what it was for and put his own ‘Matrix’ in there!”  Blaze growled.  “Don’t forget, _I’m_ from Nyon too………….and I grew up with all the old legends, like he did.”

            Megatron smiled as he stood up and then laughed warmly.  “Ah, Blaze………..I’m finding it a lot harder to dislike you now,” he chuckled.

 

*      *     *     *     *

 

            In the end, the damage and injuries had been minimal—especially considering the potential danger two of Unicron’s powerful Avatars could possibly had done.  Volcanicus had fought Galvatron on an equal footing—and at some point Galvatron had been summoned away, likely when Rodimus Unicronus had been defeated.   It was a pretty hefty win against a Cybertronian God’s Avatars, even though they only defeated **_one_** of them.

            Blaze’s sentence had been commuted, as requested by Megatron—for the assistance he provided in defeating the Avatar of Terror.   The Mistress of Flame had been intrigued by Blaze’s fiery spirit and decided he would become a good apprentice—so he would leave with the Caminus delegates to return to their home for a short time, but he would remain studying the Way of Flame on Caminus when the delegates went back to Cybertron.   However, he did leave Megatron with a very cheerful threat that may have made the former warlord dislike him again…………

            “You know………” Blaze had begun, lightly bumping his fist against Megatron’s chest—a gesture Rodimus had always used with him.  “The next time I get a chance to visit with you guys, I’m _totally_ going to flirt with Rodimus Prime in front of you!”  He laughed.

            It was probably a good thing Drift had been left back on Censerre’s world, because Megatron had a feeling that Drift would’ve done something awful to Blaze the moment those words were out of the former mercenary’s mouth.

            Rodimus was still unconscious, but every single doctor on the Necrobot’s world from Ratchet to Kaput said all of his vitals were absolutely normal.   His frame was healthy, his Spark was healthy and its iris had opened back up to how a normal spark-casing’s look _should_ be.   His body heat was _higher_ than a normal Cybertronian’s, but _perfectly normal_ for Rodimus’ body and his long-dormant Outlier ability.   Velocity, however, thought that Rodimus simply might be _afraid_ to wake up.   She thought he might _hate_ himself for what he’d done—not just as Unicron’s Avatar of Terror, but for what he did right before that.

            _Killing Getaway_.

            Killing was something Rodimus wasn’t unfamiliar with………..he’d made Nyon burn, after all.  He’d killed during the war.   But in every instance, they were choices he had no real other choice to make except for that particular one…….which always seemed to end lives.  Rodimus had _never_ killed cold-bloodedly and with vindictiveness—it went against everything he was.   He might not have been entirely to blame for Getaway’s death, but he probably _did_ blame himself for it.   That was the way Rodimus was.

            When they got back to the Necrobot’s world, Ratchet told Megatron that he should remain with Rodimus.   So they went back to their shared room on the _Lost Light_ —the room that used to be hab suite 077, Rodimus’ quarters, but had long since become _their_ room.  Both Megatron and Ratchet hoped that with a familiarity of surroundings when Rodimus woke up, it might prevent him from giving into panic and instant depression.

            So, Megatron made decisions and assigned job duties from that room, leaving Ultra Magnus to interact with people on his behalf.   The hab blocks had begun their construction and work on the plaza area continued.   A lot of people volunteered to transplant statue pedestals and the sparkflowers, according to the plans that had been drawn up for restructuring the planet.   The solar collectors that were the pedestals and rocks were carefully placed and reconnected to the generators in the center of the planet, while new solar paneling would be on every new structure on the planet.

            Everyone was working _hard_ and working _together_.   The former crew of the _Lost Light_ , still awaiting their post-mutiny interviews and evaluations, begrudgingly began to assist with the new construction.  The Autobots and Decepticons (and a few who were only Cybertronians) that Censerre had hoarded from time and space seemed to be the happiest to find new lives to live—free from war and the old struggles.   There were also a few handfuls of people from various colonies that heard about the new research base and refuge—who all petitioned Windblade and Starscream for the opportunity to go there.  Megatron had been _politely_ ordered to accept them.

            Rodimus would certainly have a few surprises awaiting him when he woke up!

            Oddly enough, Whirl and Fangry had formed a weird kind of bond of friendship—together they teased and harassed Cyclonus _mercilessly_.   Which always had Tailgate in a panic and always upset.  Velocity instantly became a mentor to young Minerva, who happened to be far more nervous about medical duties than even Velocity had been, at first!   Krok and his Scavengers also seemed to still be hanging around for Primus knew what reason……!

            And there was _Star Saber_ , as well.   He said his tasks were not yet complete………….and Velocity had promised to fix his Victory Armour again.   The old religious warrior seemed to make a lot of people uncomfortable, especially when he got strictly religious and preachy, however he also had a strange proclivity of _drunk karaoke_.   For some very weird reason, Star Saber liked to get absolutely smashed and sing the old ballads at the top of his lungs in Swerve’s bar—or even at whatever gathering was serving Engex.  It was so……… _strangely drastic_ between the two sides of Star Saber—it probably scared a lot more people than him simply being overly zealous with his religion.

            The research and refuge world has also gained a _new name_.   It was just a word that someone threw out randomly one day, everyone laughed at it—saying it was such a stupid word, it couldn’t possibly ever be the name of a planet!  It sounded _childish_ , others said.  And yet…………. _everyone_ suddenly began calling the world which had just been labelled “the Necrobot’s world” or “Censerre’s haven” by the name of “ ** _Safehome_** ”.

            Starscream and the council couldn’t outright call it a _colony_ , as it hadn’t been founded by a Titan.   So they decided that the designation of “research base” would do for it, as far as the official records and documents were concerned.   For certain, Rodimus would find a lot of growth and changes around him when he finally woke up.   Megatron wondered what his young partner would think of those changes……..?

            Making the world a research base from which they could continue the quest, but have a place to settle and evaluate the data (as well as rest, without having to always spend money on a shore leave event)—that was something that Rodimus had wanted and suggested to Megatron.   But becoming a refuge and drawing in such odd characters was probably _unexpected_ by the young Autobot.  But then, Rodimus attracted strays—it was practically a proven fact!  Now that Rodimus’ special designation as a lifebearer had been revealed—it made sense that he was good at finding strays who needed a safe place to be.

            As it turned out, Megatron had been asked to return to Cybertron with Rodimus, once the younger one had woken up and would be designated as fit for duty.  The council had wished to ask Rodimus questions about Unicron, if he remembered anything at all while he’d been corrupted.  But also, Vector Sigma had made a special request to see them both, together, as soon as was feasibly possible.

            The dark energy object that had been crushed into Megatron’s left forearm had been placed into a specially designed carrying case—locked and sealed and placed into Vector Sigma’s chamber, who swore it would seal it off from Unicron’s reach right away.   Ratchet had made sure Megatron got a new forearm, since it had been his request to “borrow” the old one.   The important thing was, Vector Sigma knew _exactly_ what that dark object was, however it refused to share any information about it at all.  It was a little frustrating, but the Master Programmer likely had its reasons for choosing to do so.

            So, now it was a day a little over two weeks after the defeat of the Avatar of Terror.  Rodimus was still unconscious with all his vitals showing functional, active and normal.  Megatron was working over at the desk, reading through some of Ultra Magnus’ reports on the status of the construction and landscaping.  Also, Roller had submitted a few requests for the security department—he was proving to be an _excellent_ new head of security.

            Suddenly a change in the background hum of the room had Megatron suddenly jumping to his feet and rushing over to their recharge slab.   He got there just as Rodimus’ blue optics glowed and he mumbled something unable to be understood.

            “Rodimus?”  Megatron asked, cupping the side of his sparkmate’s faceplate and gazing down at him.

            Rodimus mumbled something else that Megatron couldn’t catch.   However, he did raise a hand to lay over the one of Megatron’s on the side of his faceplate.

            “Are you all right?”  Megatron said, asking a new question to try and get a legible response from the one he loved.

            “I’m happy to see you, old man,” Rodimus mumbled, this time his words were clear enough to be understood.  He reached his other hand up and pulled Megatron’s head down, brushing a light kiss over the older mech’s lips.  The gesture surprised the former warlord, because it was a gesture that was not Cybertronian, nor had Rodimus ever even initiated it in their avatar forms.  “I’m happy to see you………” he mumbled again, his light voice quiet and sad.

            “Despite those words, you do not sound very happy,” Megatron murmured, giving a soft sigh.

            “Yeah, I’m _not_ happy………….but I _am_ very glad you’re here right now,” Rodimus whispered, tugging on Megatron’s head again to make their foreheads touch—his favorite gesture of love and fondness.  “Activate your avatar, old man…………..I _need_ you right now,” he said, quietly.

            Megatron straightened up with a jerk, he was extremely worried at the request.  Rodimus was almost never the one who requested avatar use.  “I do not think this is an appropriate time and I do not think it is healthy to engage in such an activity right now, Rodimus,” he answered, seriously.

            “If you don’t distract me now, I may do something stupid and self-destructive,” Rodimus said, quietly.

            Megatron didn’t think this was the right thing to do right now, but he understood why Rodimus wanted it.   He knew exactly what that desperation was that his sparkmate was clinging to—scared to fall back into the darkness, he needed something familiar to crawl back into the light for.   After all, really, that was the foundation of how their relationship began.  Rodimus needed something to live for and Megatron needed an anchor to this new life he had chosen.

            Maybe it really was developed from Lock-Set Syndrome, but maybe they both needed some desperate psychological crutch in order to keep moving towards the future.  They both truly needed each other and bonded closer than ever expected to by using the avatar system to become intimate in new ways and cement their bond.  It was abnormal Cybertronian behavior, but then—as Megatron had seen—many who had joined in Rodimus’ quest for the Knights of Cybertron had oddities and abnormalities in their personalities.   This almost made the two of them seem normal in their chosen pleasure activities…………..

            But Rodimus took them all in and gave them a place to call home.   Rodimus had even taken Megatron in—however much he had protested at the start—and had given the old warlord a place to call home.   Which was something he had _never had_ before.   Megatron was thrown into the mines practically as soon as he woke up in Tarn, he struggled to get past prejudice and wound up a target—after the mnemosurgery and the gladiator pits, Megatron _never_ felt safe anywhere.  _Until **now**_.

            Megatron leaned back down and touched his forehead to Rodimus’ again, gently and tenderly.  “All right, we shall engage—but low-stress and slowly, do you understand?   There will be no desperation and no extended activity……….let us _not_ get lectured right now, hmm?”  The former Decepticon Leader chuckled.

            “ ** _I’m_** not the one who has problems stopping, old man,” Rodimus responded with a wry little laugh.  “I’m sorry to beg for this and stress you out, but I feel like I could just slip away right now………….I feel so………lost and lonely…………..” he whispered, sadly.

            “I know……..I understand,” Megatron murmured as he straightened up, not bothering to even try to correct that statement about loneliness.  He _knew_.   Even when you are surrounded by dozens……… _hundreds_ ………. ** _thousands_** —you could still feel _very alone_.   He knew that first hand and had endured it for longer than he could say.   “Let’s just be together for a while, _Rodimus Prime_.”

            Rodimus shook his head and laughed.  “I am absolutely punching Blaze the next time I see him—for calling me that,” he mumbled, still chuckling softly.

            As his partner said that, the former miner and gladiator realized that Rodimus had been aware of much of what he did as the Avatar of Terror.   And though he realized that, Megatron still smiled—for Rodimus _did not protest_ being addressed with “Prime”.  Perhaps that meant that there was hope Rodimus did actually want to become that amazing leader that several believed he could be.  A true _Prime_.

            “Well, I suppose I will tease you with it every so often,” Megatron responded, with a warm smile, reaching down to brush the lines of his beloved’s faceplate.  “Honestly, you are a _fantastic_ individual and I shall covet you for the rest of our lives—whatever we get for living them—whether that title becomes official or not.”  Then Megatron walked around the recharge slab and made motions for his sparkmate to move over.  “Shall we indulge ourselves for a little bit, then?”  He asked, a teasing tone in his deep reverberating voice.

            “If you’ll _stop waffling_ about it, old man!”  Rodimus laughed.

            Megatron grinned as he climbed up on the recharge slab and laid beside the one he loved.  Then they chose to turn their attention to other pleasant activities for a little while.

 

 

 

**_Next Story_ ** _:  “ **Gods** ”_


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